


Please put it down

by tyrannsauroswrex



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, fenhawke - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5047717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyrannsauroswrex/pseuds/tyrannsauroswrex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danarius surprises Fenris, Hawke, and Varric at the Hanged Man and attempts to recapture the former slave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please put it down

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt someone on tumblr gave me! :)

Hawke rolled over in her bed, stretching her arms above her head, and kicking the covers down. Her eyelids fluttered open. It was still dark in her room, the sun hadn’t risen yet. She was exhausted from the day, her shoulders aching from the battle earlier. 

She, Fenris, and Varric had entered the Hanged Man at dusk to meet his supposed “sister” (Fenris seemed skeptical but Hawke knew he was secretly hopeful). They looked around the crowded, dim bar, and saw her sitting in the corner. Her red hair standing out in the sea of people. Beside her, Fenris caught his breath. She shot him an encouraging look and brushed his hand with hers. He nodded and they walked over to her table. 

She felt wrong. Something was wrong. She rolled over to find the other side of her bed empty, the covers thrown back, and the pillow thrown across the room.  
“Fen?” No answer. The house creaked around her, taunting her. She sat up and pulled on her robe. Fenris had fallen asleep with tears drying on his cheeks, his head on Hawke’s chest, and his fingers tangled in her hair.  
She shuffled down the stairs, listening for some sign of him. He was a light sleeper, always had been, but he never left without telling her. She stopped at the bottom of the steps with bated breath, and listened. She heard logs crackling, and saw the faint glow of the fireplace in her study. She swallowed and turned the corner to see–  
“Leto,” Varania said, taking his hands in hers and leading him to her table.  
“Leto?” That name called up memories deep in his mind. They sat at the table, Fenris next to his sister, Varric and Hawke across from them. Hawke’s heart swelled for him, his lost past coming back not in the form of a flashback which left him shaking. Just for once, he deserved this, he needed a positive memory to ward off Danarius. They spoke softly, his sister brushing his hair out of his green eyes as she described their mother’s smile. A tear rolled down Fenris’ cheek as she painted memories not tainted by lyrium.  
Varric wandered over to the bar to grab everyone a drink while Hawke stared around the room. It was still early in the night but the bar was nearly empty. People were leaving hurriedly, throwing nervous looks backward as they left. Hawke’s stomach gnawed at her. Something was  
“Wrong?” Fenris stared at the flames, his eyes far away and distant.  
“Fenris, what’s wrong?” Hawke repeated, inching closer to the elf. His markings glistened in the firelight. He sat still as a statue, his hands dangling between his knees. He wore only pants, his bare back a roadmap of scars. 

“Leto, I’m sorry,” Varania said, tearing her eyes away from his face for the first time since they’d met.  
“For what?”  
“Fenris, it’s a trap!” Hawke sprung out of her seat, spilling her drink, and pulling out her sword.  
“My little wolf…”  
Fenris sat in his seat, his eyebrows knotted in confusion and disbelief. He flinched at that voice, but didn’t move.  
Danarius, his hair the same shade as Fenris’, stepped down from the stairs, surrounded by mages who Fenris recognized from his past. “I’ve missed you, my little wolf.”  
Hawke threw herself in front of Fenris, who still hadn’t moved, her sword pointed at the magister’s chest. Varric aimed his crossbow at him, too, swearing under his breath. 

“How could she?” Fenris whispered, still not turning around to face Hawke. He sighed and clenched his fists, his muscles rippling under his tattoos.  
Hawke crept closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. He shuddered under her touch. She heard him stifle a cry, and it broke her heart to see him like this.  
“You are a very lucky woman, Serah Hawke. He is quite a specimen,” Danarius walked around her, staring down at Fenris behind her. Her sword followed him with each step.  
“He is no slave, Danarius. Not anymore.” Fenris jolted at his name, again. It brought him back, reality slamming into him like a fist. He pushed off from the table, his legs wavering beneath him. He saw a woman pointing a sword at his master, he saw a strange elf woman cowering beside him. Where was he?  
“Hawke, I. I almost went back to him,” he said, reaching up to grab her hand.  
“But you  
“Didn’t expect to see me here, did you? Your sister told me where to find you, a bit overdue, don’t you think? I’ve missed you, Fenris.”  
“Danarius, you will leave him here. You will leave now if you want to live,” Hawke spat at him, her sword shaking in her hands, her knuckles shown white like his markings.  
“Master, what is going on?” Fenris croaked, his voice cracking under his strain.  
“Broody, what are you doing?” Varric lowered his crossbow slightly. “Snap out of it!”  
“Ah, Fenris. Come to me, I’ll take you away, we’ll go back home. I promise, you won’t be in too much trouble if you come right now,” he said, reaching out his hand. Hawke raised her sword and stepped closer.  
“You will not touch him.”  
Fenris made to push past her, to grab his former master’s hand and return to his old life. A life which was stained with pavali and fresh scars.  
“didn’t go with him. Fenris, you’re still here, with me,” Hawke said, stooping down to look him in the eye. She needed him to come back to her, he was lost and she knew it.  
The fire warmed her cheeks. Fenris’ face was worn, the dark circles under his eyes darker than they had ever been. His eyes were red from crying, but his face was dry.  
“I won’t be able to, next time. I won’t be able to fight him for much longer, or ever again. Hawke, he won’t stop.”  
“Fenris, he can’t come after you anymore, we killed him. He is dead.”  
“He’s not.”  
“Hawke, put it down.”  
“What? Fenris, no. We can defeat him now, you don’t have to be afraid of him,” she gasped, her eyes darting from Danarius back to Fenris. She didn’t lower her sword, she never faltered.  
“Hawke, please put it down. We can’t, we can’t fight him, and we can’t win. I’ve tried, I’ve tried for so long. I’m tired, I’m so fucking tired, Hawke. Please, let me go. I’ll be fine, and you’ll be fine. You won’t have to worry about me anymore,” Fenris reached up and stroked her cheek. It would be better this way, he thought. She’d be safe and that’s all that matters.  
Hawke watched as he pushed past her, his head bowed. Danarius, a victorious smile on his horrible face, threw his arm around Fen’s shoulder. He whispered in his ear, and Hawke could see his body shake.  
“Fenris, Fenris, I need you to look at me now,” Hawke said, taking both of his hands in her and kissing them. He turned his head, slowly, tearing his eyes reluctantly away from the flames. “Fenris, I promise you, I will never let anything happen to you, nothing and no one will ever hurt you like he did again.”  
“How can you promise that, Hawke? He is still out there, I know he is. I’m not safe, you’re not safe simply because you’re with me. Hawke I, I couldn’t live knowing I hurt you,” He began to cry again. He closed his eyes, covering his face with one hand.  
“Fenris,” Hawke cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her, “I love you.”  
“Fenris! You don’t want this! I love you,” Hawke cried, her sword clanging to the floor.  
“While that is touching, it seems your young elf has made his decision,” Danarius smirked, turning around and flashing her a smile which made her skin crawl.  
“You. You love me?” Fenris breathed, turning around to look at Hawke, seeing her for the first time in his life. Really seeing her.  
She pleaded at him, her face wet with tears.  
“Yes, Fenris. I have since the first time we met, please.”  
“You love me,” he sighed, burying his face in her hands. “You love me, you love me.” He kissed her palms.  
“Yes, you crazy elf. I love you, and I’ll stay by your side no matter what or who happens.”  
Fenris stumbled forward, tripping over a step, to Hawke. He reached out to her, hating himself for even thinking of leaving. How could he leave her, again. Their fingertips touched just as Danarius grabbed him by the neck and yanked him backward. “Where do you think you’re going, elf?” He snarled in his ear, causing him to erupt in goose bumps. Fenris could feel his markings growl on his skin.  
“You will unhand me, now, Danarius.”  
“Oh, so informal. You will address me as master, slave,” He struck him across the face.  
Fenris stumbled back, his hand going to his cheek. His head rang.  
“You will never lay a hand on me, again, Danarius,” Fenris barked, his markings screaming. He walked forward, taking pleasure in the way Danarius cowered beneath him.  
He made a fist, glowing bright with the lyrium his master forced on him, and pushed his hand through his chest. His ribs cracked under his force. Danarius’ eyes looked at him, terrified, as the life drained out of him.  
“I am no slave,” he hissed, and pushed his master off.  
Hawke pulled him to her chest and rubbed his back with her hands.  
“I promise you, Fenris, I’m here to stay. For better or worse, I’m here. You’ll always be safe with me,” she cooed in his ear as his body shook with fresh sobs.  
“Hawke, I love you,” he murmured against her collar bone, kissing her in between each word. He pulled her closer as the two sat intertwined in front of the dying fire.


End file.
